Breaking The Rules
by Fumeh
Summary: I broke all the goddamn rules though. Because I'm a fucking idiot. It was like a challenge he dared me to try...


Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, or any or it's characters. I own the plot and nothing more. I also do not own the songs that will be used in this fanfiction, they belong to their writers.

WARNING: There will be mentions or abuse mentions and use of drugs. Alcohol, sex, yaoi, and swearing. If you do not any of these you should turn around.

Thank you to my Beta FacyMcFuckFace, this story would be serious shit without them.

A/N: This is only a tester, I decided on uploading the first chapter to see how people reacted to it. I'm planning on finishing the rest of the story before uploading it. I hope everyone enjoys this, I really enjoyed writing it. Just know there will be more, it may not be right away so just be patient. If you notice any mistakes please, do not hesitate to let me know. Suggestions and criticism is welcome! Enjoy!^_^

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Breaking the Rules

Chapter one: Getting to know the past before the present~

Let's get serious for a couple paragraphs shall we? There was once a time when I lived by six rules, these were the only things that could stabilize my chaotic life. You see, I had a bad past, I`ve lived a hard life, So you can imagine what that has done for my mentality. Now, I`m not gonna spout some bullshit about how the past is irrelevant to my present, if I said that I would be lying. My past had effected my current greatly, but at the time I failed to comprehend that, I foolishly decided to try and force it all to disappear.

I was six years old when my younger brother was born. Now, bare with me here, because it will get rough. My mother was an insane woman - hence my odd name. She was too crazy to function properly, and father died shortly before he was born, so I took care of my brother. I gave him his name- long before he was born, fed him, and made sure he was as well looked after as he could possibly be in our situation. When he was four, and I was about ten we both got sent to our aunt's to live. That was fine for a while, until her husband turned around and convinced her we were too routy - out of control. He made it his mission to whip us back into shape. My uncle, I guess you could call him, was an massive imbecile. He was jealous of my intellect, the talent to absorb information like a sponge. You see, the swine, no, I couldn't call him a swine, because swine are clean but this man was filthy down to the very last fiber of his being. My uncle, thankfully, didn't hit my brother, but he used me as his personal punching bag. And I took every punch, every kick so my baby brother wouldn't have to.

Soon my uncle got bored of us, told our aunt that we were lost causes, then shipped us off into the foster care system. My brother was only six - the bastards. He was brilliant, as was I. Being rotated around from house to house, family to family, made it hard to protect him and the fact that he was too damn smart for his own good. My brother was quick to understand the world around him and he never liked being treated like an innocent little boy. Because of that I had gotten into a lot of fights to protect him. I wouldn't let anyone hurt him. I promised my father. So I got beaten for anything he did wrong, I took all his punishments dead on. I'd do anything to keep the stupid kid smiling. It was a smile that told me we'd be okay, everything would work out.

I picked up a talent of reading people, it was just something I had to be good at. I needed to know when the new foster care we were being sent to was violent, neglectful, or just plain hateful. You would think god would cut some kids who have nothing to their names some slack, but no, they decided it was best to mock those who could not help the shitty hand they were dealt with.

By thirteen I was decent enough with the guitar and my voice didn't break any windows, so I took those skills to I write songs that I sang on the streets. I tried to make enough money so that when I turned eighteen and could get my brother out of the system and raise him away from that kind of life. Some weeks I didn't even make enough pocket change to take my brother out for an ice cream cone on Sundays; something I've been doing since he could walk.

I did a lot of things just to get that change, things I'm not proud of, but knowing that I did it to give my baby brother a better life, or even something to look forward to - like a damn ice cream cone, I would sell my soul and heart. I would die for him. Simple.

I was fifteen and when I was arrested for assault. if I hadn't my brother would've been beaten. At fifteen I had a mouth on me and I didn't give a fuck who didn't like what I had said. I became blunt, and sarcastic, mocking everyone around me for being idiots. Let me start at the beginning.

I was fourteen and I had met this girl, she was a pretty girl, and at the time I didn't realize she just wanted to be that girl with a bad-ass boyfriend. She wanted to be one of the cool kids, she wanted to live on the edge, between danger and safety and at the time I was happy to provide that for her. We did drugs, drank and partied. I was already sexually active before I had met her, and she thought that was sexy. I had taken her virginity and she endlessly bragged to her friends, the guys grew interested in her and she in them. We were never in love, we were just native and so fucking stupid. She thought I was just being cold-hearted when I told her that, and maybe at the time I was, but in a few years times I know that when I told her I didn't love her, I meant it. She flirted with the boys, teased them and played with them, but when they touched her she came running to me spinning tales. I believed her, because I was a fool who couldn't see past a pair of tits. I broke bones that weren't my bones. I made people bleed and scream.

About a year after we got together there was an incident, I was drunk and high and well, we didn't use protection. She came to me a week later and said she thought she was pregnant. I remember my blood running ice cold, I cannot put into words how terrified I was. I was only fifteen, I had no money and I was in and out of foster care with my brother. I was getting my ass kicked every fucking Tuesday, there was no way I could raise a child, so I ran. I told her if she was pregnant it was all up to her. She wasn't pregnant, I still didn't come back. She didn't take too kindly to that, but no matter what she did I avoided her- pushed her away. It didn't take long for her to give up in pursuing me. Soon she started to be seen around town with a new boo - some fuckface with a real mean streak who never really enjoyed my company all so much.

One Sunday, I had got a little extra money that week my brother and I were heading to the local ice cream parlor. We were close when whats-his-face, ex-bitch's new boo, came around the corner with a cone to his lips. See, only a week before we had another falling out, him and I. Ended with a bloody nose. His, not mine. The bandage is still on the fucker's nose. That's how I know when he looks up and recognizes me that he's out for blood. I'm can't recount exactly what happened but there was some words said and some feathers being tussled. All I can remember in perfect clearance is my brother pulling on my pant leg and suggesting we just get ice cream. I remember the bandaged-nosed fucker looking at him like a predator. Then saying something. Then throwing his cone full force at my brother's face. I remember how red the blood was that slowly dripped down the cut under his eye.

The next thing I knew I was being pulled off the ground kicking, and screaming incoherently. I remember the cold sting of cuffs and something telling me I should get a lawyer.

My brother told the cops and lawyers that I was protecting him. That he was scared and I was just protecting him. They believed him, but I still did two years in juvie because they think I was a little too unstable to be out on the streets.

Over the next two years I saved up enough money working at a record store while in the pen that when I got out I was able to get a small one bed-room apartment. My brother was eleven by that time, and I was fortunely able to get him out of foster care. But something changed in him. He no longer smiled like he used to, didn't talk loud or laugh freely. Somewhere between that Sunday on the street and our small apartment over two years later - he found the harshness of the world and it broke him.

I got my life together for him, though. I went for my G.E.D, made sure he went to school regularly to get his education and whatnot. I was able to keep my job at the record store when I got out of juvie. Even made myself some friends who were nothing like the ones I had before. Instead of going out partying and starting fights, we'd hang out and play some music. Even upped my guitar skills. Got pretty decent at it too.

I was convinced my brother's and my life was so much better. Put together and stable that I couldn't see it. I was blinded by getting myself together for my brother that I didn't see him falling apart.

I found pills in his room, and defiantly not the prescribed kind. He was only thirteen years old. I was okay with him having sex, as long as he was protected. I'd be a hypocrite to say otherwise. I mean, hell, he already had three piercings. The only thing I refused to ever let him go through was drugs, just like I had. Pot was one thing, you know, but pills was a whole different story. Things like pills was what nearly ruined my life once, I had gotten clean in juvie. It crushed me, knowing my brother was headed down the same road that got me there, it hurt realizing that I couldn't even see it. I yelled at him, and for the first time in a while, I cried and I begged, and I pleaded that he would be okay. That he could get through this. I would help A every step of the way.

We threw ourselves at the music, my friends and I. Started a garage band, like teenagers do. As we started to gain some traction underground, it became our focus. I refused to let A join for the longest time- made a deal that he couldn't join the band officially until he was clean for three years. He kept his end of the deal up, and officially became a member when he turned 17. By then he became the Jedi of the drums, as Matt would say.

The little shit got to skip all the hard work, too. By the time he was 17 I was 23 and our band of misfits were fairly fucking successful. All five of us.

We got A on the drums, Matt on the guitar, Matsuda fucking around on the bass, and Near rocking it out on the keyboard. I've got the mic, and Linda is running around with her head cut off trying to keep us out of jail. Espically after that one time. Whoops.

That's my fucked up life in a nutshell, but I got something out of it. Six Rules.

Rule #1: Never talk about the past

The past is the past, the present is the present. I'll tell you what the past does, it chains you up and locks you in an empty basement, and once you think it's finally under lock and key, it comes back and fucks you up the ass, no preparation, no lube. I fully believe those who try to dig up the past weirdos and need to fuck right the fuck off. My past, no touchy.

Rule #2: Never hook up with the same person for the third time.

Once is just a hook up, twice is when you can't find another person. Three times and its clear you don't want to find another person. Three times and you're starting to build a relationship, you're establishing that you want some form of link them, whether is be friends with benefits, or it be a real relationship, there will always be some sort of no - no link.

Rule #3: Do not fall in love

Love really isn't anything but a pathetic fantasy love sick people made up as a stupid explanation as to why they're so dependent on someone for their own happiness. I see love as a weakness. I'm not talking about friendship love, or family love, I'm talking about being in love, something I never believed in. It's a waste of resources.

Rule #4 : Never get emotional

When I say this, I mean do not let your emotions get the best of you. I save my emotions for my music. I don't cry my feelings out on my best friends shoulder. I don't yell and scream in passion. I'm calm, I don't let things bug me, I control my emotions and I refuse to give them control.

Rule #5: Never get into a relationship

When I bring a girl or guy home, I don't bring them home to meet my friends, or to cuddle and watch a movie. I do not make love, I won't stay the night. I fuck them, I give them a good damn time, and then I carry on. There is no dates, no flowers, don't hold my hand, you creep. I won't let anyone lock that chain around my neck and swallow the key. Fuck that shit.

I broke all the goddamn rules though. Because I'm a fucking idiot.

Yep, and the one who broke them is a very special tale. I'd say L was unique, he wasn't like the others, he wasn't loud an obnoxious, he thought before he spoke. Always so careful. He was an enigma in every sense of the word, he was like a puzzle I honestly believed it was my destiny to solve. It was like a challenge he dared me to try the first time I met him, and it made me both cautious and curious. Always at the same time I wanted to approach him, I wanted to hide from his hauntingly coal eyes. This man made me feel things I never thought possible, he ripped out emotions in me I thought dried up long ago. I slowly fell in love with him over the time span of one little competition. This was a competition between bands and he was a rival. Yes, that's right, Romero and goddamn Juliet. He led the opposite band, the band we were supposed to beat. Yet, we all soon forgot the competition and the members of his band soon became very dear friends of mine.

So who exactly am I? Well, I'm the hot stud the girls and guys scream after, I'm the kind of guy that girl's who seek a thrill look for, I'm the guy people want to say they fixed but eventually realizes they can't. I'm the guy who'll whisper sweet nothings in your ear as I pack my shit up and leave, never to be seen again. My name is Beyond Birthday, and I am a complete asshole. I am someone who takes things for granted, I'm the kinda guy who thought I could stay in one piece without someone to help keep me glued, I am the kinda guy who was too stubborn to admit I needed someone to love me. Lucky for me, though, there's someone out there more stubborn than me.

Now I think it's time to begin the story about how every rule was crushed by one man.

Oh wow, that sounded lame.

 _Wednesday, June 8, 2016~_

I wake up when the sun so sweetly decides to grace my face with it's not so welcomed presence. Then the ache of last night comes tingles along my brain. Don't drink alcohol kids, s'bad. There's some chick to my left who I can't even vaguely remember ever getting there. Her breasts are exposed as she lay on her back with the sheets tangled up between her thighs, and her makeup was smudged making her look like some trashed up raccoon. I would laugh but I can't even feel my face right now. Damn, it just sucks when you fuck a hot chick, and then wake up next to her looking like a dead raccoon took their place, oh, but sometimes I wish it actually was the raccoon.

Women can be so feisty. I poked the no-name woman's cheek, then again when she didn't budge. I had things to do today, well not really, much, but this is my bed and she don't belong. Poking her cheek a little harder the poor girl finally groaned and opened her eyes, looked at me, and smiled. I assume she remembered who I was, I sure as hell don't remember her. I know, I'm awful right?

"Look, I don't really remember you," She chuckled and stretched out her thin arms above her bed. Letting out little groans and sighs and she relaxed back into the mattress,

"I'm sure you had a good time, but I think its time for you to go."

The girls face fell and scrunched up, it reminded me of a shriveled up cabbage. She removed herself from my bed and searched for her clothing, giving me a very nice view, if I do say so myself. It was then that I noticed my little friend saying good morning, and it would be a bit rude to waste it, so I stood up in all my naked glory and placed my body against hers.

"After one more dance, though, yeah?" She made a sound of disgust as she tried to push me away. Turning her around, with a sweet smile, I let my hands skirt down her sides and rounding on her bare ass. In one swift motion I had her lifted up on the dresser- her hands were already tangled in my hair and my lips on her pulse point. We ended up in the shower, somehow. Sex is weird.

I closed the door behind the girl as she left, turning around viewing my spotless, modern style apartment, the details of it is irrelevant. I move away from the door towards my brother, Ashtin's, or A, room. I walked right into his room, no privacy when I'm around. I spot Near's white hair pointing out from under the blanket before my eyes even adjusted to the dark. The only band member I happen to not live with is Matsuda, he's still here all the damn time though.

"Ashtin get your ass up, it's ten o'clock." I whisper into my brother's ear. I sigh as he stays completely motionless. He's gonna make me yell. I've been told I have that yell that fathers use.

"Ashtin, wake the FUCK UP!" I shouts straight into his ear.

"What the fUCK!" he shouts as he shoots up, his hair in utter chaos on his head. Near lets out a long groan beside him, then struggles to sit up himself. He looks directly at me, his face all grumpy.

"Why." He whispers.

"Time to get up munchkins. The sun is shining, its a brand new day," I sing-song as I flip the light switch on and leave to the sound of protests.

Plopping down on my nice leather sofa. I grabbed my phone and started going through the usual social media stuff Linda forced me to get. A few moments later there's a loud moan and creaking soon followed. I guess Mail's up. I smiled, reaching for my cigarettes, placing one in my mouth I lit up and inhaled the beautiful sensation of a slow death.

Only a few moments later Linda's name pops up on the screen, my lovely baby misfit, she's actually twenty one.

"Whaaaat? what." I groan into the phone, what? Oh don't look at me like that, it's the morning, I'm allowed to ditch the politeness.

"Oh B, you'll never guess what just happened!" She squealed - completely ignoring my obvious I'm-Tired-Fuck-Off voice. I pulled the phone away mid-way, trying to save my poor ears. I didn't bother with a response, she always keeps going, regardless. Women.

"I just got this call from Battle of The Bands, you know, that super enormous, insanely popular show where bands compete against each other for money, recognition, you know?"

"Yeah," I groaned against her high pitched rambling. "Of course I remember Battle of the Bands - We were on last year. I think."

"Yeah, yeah, but the new season is four of semi famous bands going against each other. They want Back-Up to be one of them." Groan. "Isn't that amazing?" Linda practically screamed, yes, fucking screamed in my ear. I couldn't give less of a fuck about this, we competed last year and kicked everyone's ass. It was painfully dull, and I had no interest in it.

"Nope, boring, there are better things to do." I didn't bother beating around the bush, but I could hear the pout on her face.

"Yes, no, I'm not done yet. You'll want to hear this." I sigh and switch hands with the phone while tapping out my cigarette, then leaning back. Mentally preparing myself for one long conversation about publicity and opportunities and please kill me ohmygod.

"Go on then."

"You, you lucky little devil, are going against, the one and only, WAMMY." Sitting up immediately and clenching the phone.

"My interest is peaked. WAMMY? Like, our WAMMY, WAMMY right?"

"Yep. I just finished talking to WAMMY's manager and he said they would only do it if you will. The deal we worked out is that you guys will live in the same house, you'll have to do a meet and greet and then an audition." I nodded. Already sounds tons more exciting than our time last season. See, WAMMY and Back- Up we've had this... Silent competion for years. We're consistency being put against each other for everything. Awards, interviews, appearances. Its starting to become a problem. Just, the thing is, we've never actually met. Oh but they've really become a huge thorn in my damn side. It was real fun in the beginning but now it seems to be the only thing people are starting to know us for.

"I also booked an interview, with Takada, it'll be great!" Linda continued, "I know how much you hate them, but it's kind of mandatory." Fuck I hated interviews. But she was right, it made sense to have one before we went forward with the show.

"Yeah, yeah that's fine." I sigh into the phone.

"So you'll do it?" She squealed right into the speaker. Again.

"You tell Matsuda, I'll tell the rest of them." Hanging up, I rise from the couch, scratch my belly and move towards the bedrooms to go tell my misfits the news.

I find myself in front of to Matt's door. The moans much louder, and creaks coming more persistent now. But me being me, I didn't care. Toeing the cracked door open to a woman in an absolute bouncing, moaning frenzy on Matt's lap, while he lays casually, staring up at the girl with a cigarette dangling lazily between his lips. His shaggy red hair was more messed up than usual and his goggles were absent, his neon green eyes slanted in mild boredom. A tattooed hand rests on the girl's hip as she bounced furiously up and down on him like it's her job. Probably is.

I let my shoulder fall against the door frame and picked my nails while I waited for him to finish up. We're both used to this kind of stuff by now to not even be fazed at all. Neither of us care about boundaries, and held no shame. One reason we get along so well, Matt and I. Staring down at my red painted nails as the moments ticked by, admiring the styled ink design that painted across the red. Just when I was about to start tapping my foot as loud as possible there was a soft grunt and a screeching noise that startled the fuck out of me. I give the girl a half-ass clap which startled her in turn. She Instantly climbed off Matt's dick mumbling her dis-pleasement with being watched like some pornstar. With a dirty look pointed my way she walks past me and out the door.

I stared at Matt's tattooed back as he got up and pulled on sweat pants, placed his goggles to their place on his head buried somewhere in the mess he calls hair. I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist and rest my chin on his shoulder.

"Oh Matty-kins, I have some great news," Ignoring me, like always, he takes a long drag off his smoke and waits for me to say what I needed to say. I won't cave.

After a few minutes in complete silence Matt takes a final drag and butts out his smoke then pulls away from me and exhales the smoke in my face. I smirks widely. "You know what blowing smoke in someone's face means in bars?"

"What do you want?" He diverts, his voice was as deep and lazy as ever with that hint of Scottish accent. His emerald eyes came to meet mine. I flash him a wolfish grin, the grin of a madman with a plan.

"Got a call, we're gonna participate in this season of Battle of the Bands." Matt stared at me, expressionless and bored. Oh Mail you underestimate me so.

"Sounds incredibly boring, not interested." The redhead said bluntly, thin strands of smoke escaping his mouth as he talks.

"Yes, usually that would be the case my dear friend, except we must do this." I said to him, his brow raised and I took this as a demand for more information.

"We're going against WAMMY." That was all it for a slow grin to gather on his face, this told me that he was interested and I waited no further, I just left him there to take in the wonderful news as I went to inform the rest of the band.

I walked into my spotless kitchen where my messy ass brother was currently sitting at a stool, watching his boyfriend, Nate, make breakfast, and enjoying the view. I plopped down in the stool next to my brother.

"Linda just called, she got us a spot on Battle Of the Bands, we're going up against WAMMY, she said we had to go in and do a meet and greet with them, take an interview and we have to audition. Again. Oh, and we'll also be living in the same house with them. I already said yes." A looked at me, he had that look he gets when he as a question, and I knew what it was.

"Beyond, isn't Ni-" I cut him of with a glare, I did not want to hear about that.

"That's irrelevant, what matters is the competition." He nodded and said nothing more. I left the kitchen to go watch whatever was on the television, the news. Oh look it's me.

"So, today we talk about our favorite rocker, bad boy, Beyond Birthday. Apparently he partied a little to hard last night, he was shown flashing cameras his nether regions while sticking his tongue out while flipping the cameras off. Isn't that just like him? Next thing, have you heard-" I flip the TV off in mild distaste. Yes, I did pull my pants down and flash the whole bar, but I was not drunk, completely sober in fact.

"Told you it'd be on the news, Linda's gunna have a fit, you know." Near said, sitting down next to me with a plate of eggs and bacon.

Snatching a piece of crispy bacon while answering with,

"What? Guy said I had a small cock. Couldn't let him defile my honour like that, now could I?"


End file.
